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I started to say no, then realized I wanted to say yes. Which was silly. But I was enjoying sitting in the dark with the smell of leather and cologne. Call it chemistry, instant lust, whatever. I liked Richard. He flipped my switch. It had been a long time since I had liked anybody.

Jean-Claude didn’t count. I wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t. Being dead might have something to do with that.

“Alright, I’ll go caving. When and where?”

“Great. Meet in front of my house at, say, ten o’clock on Saturday.”

“Ten in the morning?” I said.

“Not a morning person?” he asked.

“Not particularly.”

“We have to start early, or we won’t get to the end of the cave in one day.”

“What do I wear?”

“Your oldest clothes. I’ll be dressed in coveralls over jeans.”

“I’ve got coveralls.” I didn’t mention that I used my coveralls to keep blood off my clothes. Mud sounded a lot more friendly.

“Great. I’ll bring the rest of the equipment you need.”

“How much more equipment do I need?”

“A hard hat, a light, maybe knee pads.”

“Sounds like a boffo first date,” I said.

“It will be,” he said. His voice was soft, low, and somehow more private than just sitting in my car. It wasn’t Jean-Claude’s magical voice, but then what was?

“Turn right here,” he said, pointing to a side street. “Third house on the right.”

I pulled into a short, blacktopped driveway. The house was half brick and some pale color. It was hard to tell in the dark. There were no streetlights to help you see. You forget how dark the night can be without electricity.

Richard unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Do you need help getting him inside?” My hand was on the key as I asked.

“No, I got it. Thanks, though.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He stared at me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not yet,” I said.

He smiled, a quick flash in the darkness. “Good.” He unlocked the back door behind him and got out of the car. He leaned in and scooped Stephen up, holding the blanket close so it didn’t slide off. He lifted with his legs more than his back; weightlifting will teach you that. A human body is a lot harder to lift than even free weights. A body just isn’t balanced as well as a barbell.

Richard shut the car door with his back. The back door clicked shut, and I unbuckled my seat belt so I could lock the doors. Through the still-open passenger side door Richard was watching me. Over the idling of the car’s engine his voice carried, “Locking out the boogeymen?”

“You never know,” I said.

He nodded. “Yeah.” There was something in that one word that was sad, wistful, innocence lost. It was nice to talk with another person who understood. Dolph and Zerbrowski understood the violence and the nearness of death, but they didn’t understand the monsters.

I closed the door and scooted back behind the steering wheel. I buckled my seat belt and put the car in gear. The headlights sparkled over Richard, Stephen’s hair like a yellow splash in his arms. Richard was still staring at me. I left him in the dark in front of his house with the singing of autumn crickets the only sound.

10

I PULLED UP IN front of my apartment building at a little after 2:00 A.M. I’d planned to be in bed a long time before this. The new cross-shaped burn was a burning, acid-eating ache. It made my whole chest hurt. My ribs and stomach were sore, stiff. I turned on the dome light in the car and unzipped the leather jacket. In the yellow light bruises were blossoming across my skin. For a minute I couldn’t think how I’d gotten hurt; then I remembered the crushing weight of the snake crawling over me. Jesus. I was lucky it was bruises and not broken ribs.

I clicked off the light and zipped the jacket back up. The shoulder straps were chafing on my bare skin, but the burn hurt so much more that the bruises and the chafing seemed pretty darn minor. A good burn will take your mind off everything else.

The light that usually burned over the stairs was out. Not the first time. I’d have to call the office once it opened for the day and report